Through the eyes of a Soldier
by Thinkmaster
Summary: While Exeter and Samus are held at gunpoint by her renegade ship, another threat orbits in space.
1. And so it begins

"_Christ, there's too many of them!" "Hold them off!" "What are they!" "I don't know, they look like Splinters!" God damn it, Brioni, hold the line! "I can't, there's too many!" Hold the line! "They're in!" HOLD THE DAMN LINE! "Oh god, get it off me, GET IT OFF ME!" Jenkins, help him out! "Jenkins is dead, sir!" Shit, he was the last medic! "I'm out of ammo!" Marines, equip bayonets! "Sir, that's suicide!" We won't surrender to these things! What the hell-where's Johnson! Dammit Johnson, you slime, get back here-Augh!_

It played over and over in my mind, like a fuzzy tape recording that endlessly rewound itself over and over again, each time more vivid than the last. My team was slaughtered, my body mortally wounded, and my ship...well, God knows what had happened to my ship. God knows what had happened to _me_, all I could remember was getting attacked by one of those...those _things_, and then going out like a light. What were they? They looked and acted like Splinters, but they were so damn hard to kill, their natural armor more resilient and their speed increased almost two fold. And they came out of nowhere, _literally._ A whole swarm of them simply appeared as soon as I had turned my back, each with it's own little cloud like thing of what looked like a physical manifestation of shadow.They were black, three pronged and pissed, their eyes a weird, orange and yellow mass of dots, orbs and misshapen blobs. They attacked with a primal fury and aggressiveness not usually bourne out of the small creatures. There's another thing, they were bigger. Much bigger.

I couldn't see, I couldn't hear, and I couldn't move. For anyone, that would be a major hindrance. But for a Marine, it was terror. No, a Marine was never scared, But the icy cold hand offear still gripped my heart in a vice. I could be in a coma, still lying on the groung immobile, left for dead. If either those twisted Splinters or the Space Pirates found me, I would be dead. If not, I would waste away over a five day period, my life support systems keeping me alive until I died of starvation, trapped in my own mind. But wait, what was that...faint sounds, fuzzy, like I was wearing earplugs. And my sight began to return, although only mere variations of light and dark and the picture grainy, like a black and white television with the sharpness turned down to zero.

Sounds were more distinguishable now, the crackling of fire. Wait a second, Fire! The ship! But I heard other sounds, including the sound of some beam weapon being fired, a few small explosions, the death squeal of a...Splinter!

My mind snapped up, fully alert, and my sight returned to a degree. I no longer saw blotches of black and white, but full color pictures, though only more . Indeed, the strange, Splinter-like creatures had returned, only in smaller numbers than before. But this time, they were preoccupied with someone, or something else.

My vison slid into focus, a drunk man going sober. There was some robotic, humanoid creature engaged in combat with the Dark Splinters (as I later classified them, my team was apparently the first to encounter their kind in all of humanity)and actually appeared to have the upper hand. It's armor/skin was tinted various shades of vibrant orange and yellow, and it's shape was curved to fit the contours of what looked the body of a human female. Not even the most skilled military technicians could create such armor, we had not the materials. I raised my weapon, letting the computerized locking system plugged into my spinal cord via a hole drilled into the back of my neck do the aiming, and-wait a second, the targeting reticle was gone! In fact, the whole of my HUD was absent from my visor.

It took me a while to recognize the hole on my face plane, right in front of my right eye, the breach in my visor the reason of my lack of a targeting system. Oh well, I suppose my natural aim would have to do...

Meanwhile, the creature was obliterating the Dark Splinters with some kind of beam weapon similar to Space Pirate technology. But her weapon didn't look like pirate tech, it was some ind of mounted arm cannon, in place of where her right forearm should've been.And a ball of light would occasionally coalesce at the tip of this weapon, to be launched at an incoming Splinter. These seemed to do more damage than the normal, rapid-fire beams it fired, actually curving the space and air around it as it traveled torwards it's target. It even fired the occasional missile.

But for all it's fire power, it could still move with the agility and grace of a ninja, pulling rolls and flips that would be impossible to the normal human. Minutes later, it appeared she had defeated all her foes unscathed except for one she had missed. As she walked away (or at least it _looked_ like a "she",) torwards an metal, octagonal door in the cliff face, the Splinter leaped at her, attempting to latch on to her back.

_CRACK!_ She turned around to see the dead carcass of the creature, a new hole through it's head, and a wounded Marine Captain holdingasmoking sniper rifle


	2. Mistrust

I was still lying on the ground, my head against the ship's hull, when I fired that shot. I was incredibly lucky that Scryer's body lay near mine, he was one of our snipers and I was able to take the sniper attachment from his gun and snap it on to mine. My weapon was one of few that the Military only assigned to their most prized officers. All weapons wielded by the marines could easily be disassembled for travel. But with my weapon, I could take parts from other weapons and integrate them into my own.

The "crack" had obviously attracted the attention of the strange mechanoid that had unknowingly saved my life, and she turned with her weapon pointed at me, another glowing ball of searing energy just barely inside the barrel. She casually walked torwards me, her face hidden by a T-shaped, aquamarine visor, making her look more like an emotionless machine than a sentient being, if she was. She eventually got so close that I could feel the heat of her weapon on my face, frying whatever computer systems that remained in my helmet. My skin remained surprisingly unburnt, although the light was so bright that I could barely see out of my unshielded eye.

I lowered my weapon, and began to breath heavily. The sudden movement of raising my gun for that shot had worsened the injuries around my shoulder and torso, shattered bone and armor that dug into my muscles and tearing my tendons asunder. I couldn't move, couldn't escape from an almost certain doom.

For a few fleeting moments, I think I almost cried.

But I pulled myself together._ I_ was supposed to be the stoic one, _I_ was the marine. So, like all other emotions in my life, I held it back. Covering it up with a mask of indifference, staring into that visor, hoping that there were a pair of eyes under it instead of a pair of optical sensors, unchanging in their view of mercy. 

My cannon was almost against his head, my fingers on the trigger, or so to speak. The only "surviving" marines I had seen were those that had tried to kill me, and although their movements were slow and their bodies twisted, unlike this one, I wasn't going to take any chances. I hadn't taken any chances since Zebes.

But then, through a break in his face plate, I saw his eye.

It was deep blue, staring into mine. _Kill me,_ it said, unwavering._I don't care anymore, just pull the damn trigger andget it over with._ He was resigned to his fate, accepting and embracing death. But why? To end the pain? Or because he knew he was going to die? I noticed a small trickle of crimson blood, slithering down his face.

It was then that I observed his full body, or what was left of it. A massive network of cracks and tears ran through his left shoulder and chest, a myriad of spiderwebs. Out of these flowed small rivers of blood, some cut off by overlapping pieces of armor, and others opened farther by the position in which he lay. His right leg, as scans indicated, was fractured in three places and his left was outright broken. His face plate had a hole, through which I could see his eye, and below this ran a deep cut, probably caused by a shard of glass.

All in all, the guy was a wreck. Not only that, but as mangled as he was he wasn't taken over by those dark things that had caused the splinters to attack, as the others were. And he had attempted to save my life, though I could've easily shaken off the thing.

I lowered my weapon, letting the charged up Power Beam dissipate back into the cannon.

My ruse had worked, my fake resignation convincing the Mechanoid to spare my life. She offered her hand, letting me grab it for support. I got up on one foot, my other one shattered, and was forced to lean on her to stay up. In this fashion, we began to walk torwards the metallic door she had been advancing torwards earlier.

"So, do you have a name?" I tried to ask her, but she ignored me, plodding on without so much as a glance. "Come on, I just saved your life, all I expected was a little thanks." She remained silent. For a few seconds we marched on, I, the wounded marine captain leaning on a woman whom I didn't even know if she was real or some ancient machine of a past race.

Eventually I changed tactics. "Hey, no problem, I'm used to it. Not the first woman who's given me the cold shoulder."

I knew what he was doing, trying to pry at me with humor. I inwardly smiled at his last comment, sensing that he was being sincere. But I marched on, afraid to release my identity. Just in case.

I know it seems silly now, I can't even count the number of times he's saved my ass on that planet and yet I didn't trust him back there after saving my life. He was the one I was looking for, Capt. R. Exeter of the 654th Marines. The one I had been sent to find, among the others, the one that command had extensivly briefed me on before my departureand yet I still had that nagging suspicion in the back of my head. I suppose that's where it started, our little relationship, and like all things important in my life it started with the near death of someone. Ironic.

But back on topic. Throughout the entiretrek back to the ship he prodded at me, trying to find a weak spot in my silence,a place to put his chisel and hammer away at my armor. He was an experienced griller, and more than once I almost opened my mouth but thought better of it.

As I reached the ship, I couldn't take it anymore. He needed rest, I wanted quiet, all the marines were dead _sans_ one and it had been a shitty day. So as soon as I entered the drop ship I put him in cryo, where he would drop unconcious andhis woulds would heal themselves, and took a long nap in the plush leather seat of the cockpit.


	3. yawn well, that was a nice napnow where ...

Ok, this one I promise to be good. I've had a lot to work on, recently, so sorry if I've taken a bit getting the next chapter online. But it's done, and I'm happy. I even have fans, kinda, this is amazing. Mungo, you seem to be especially happy this is going on. And Kitana? Don't worry, I think you'll like how it plays out. :) Now, without further ado...

Chapter 3:(yawn)... That was a good nap. Now where the hell am I!

_Sir, shields are at 50 and holding...shit, out of ammo!...hehe, Johnny's got air sick...so, do you have a name?...painkillers...Brioni, hold the damn line!...Rick..._Rick

The last voice pulled a trigger in my head, and my mind awakened. I was still half asleep, I felt weightless and stupid. Memories, rough tatters of recent events were a puzzle where all the pieces didn't fit, or just weren't there at all. Nothing made sense, I couldn't sift through the rush of memory all at once.

Eventually I began to actually comprehend my memories. I could recall everything with great clarity; the pursuit of a Space Pirate vessel gone awry, the ship hitting a massive storm and losing all contact whatsoever. Our choice to try and land, get intel with a little ground recon. The base setup was smooth, our extermination of the Splinter hive quick, easy work.

Then we met the Dark Splinters.

Our group could barely hold them off, they were taking them one by one. I was one of the last to fall, Johnson ran away and went AWOL. I had no idea how far he could've gotten before the Splinters most likely caught up with him.

I was alone.

No, wait a second, there was that woman who had saved my life. She carried me, brought me into her ship and then...and then what? All I could remember was a vague mention of Painkillers. Hey, that accounted for the numbness, she must've pumped me full of Novacain. But through armor?

I eventually realized that it was I, not my helmet, that was malfunctioning, as my senses began to return. I could feel my limbs, bereft of the heavy armor I had grown accustomed to. This means my helmet was gone as well, probably removed my the woman. My sight was only mere variations of black and white, light and darkness, and all I could hear was my own breathing. Only it was a bit louder than it should've, and it sounded like I was breathing through some kind of oriface...

I moved my seemingly weightless arms to my mouth, only to feel a mask-like device hooked up to some kind of long tube. I struggled to get it off, my legs flailing and hitting some kind of curved, smooth surface with my feet. So, she had put me into a Cryo tube, an advanced healing device that could heal the most grievous wounds in mere days. I must be in some kind of ship or base, then, as a Cryo tube required a large computer to regulate the flow of oxigen and to monitor the subject's condition. Normally, he or she only woke up after all wounds were completely healed, but I could still feel a small twinge of pain above my eye as the anesthetic began to wear off.

"Ahh, I see the you are awake". The voice was that of a male human, about 34, mechanical. A computer. I spoke back, knowing that a radio was implanted inside the breathing apparatus. "Yeah, nice observation. Now drain this damn tank so I can leave." The voice chuckled. "Oh, you cannot leave yet. Your wounds are not fully healed." By this time I was good and pissed. "Drain the tank, or I'll drain it myself." The voice laughed. "Oh, you could try but I doubt you'd get far. The glass itself is some of the hardest material known to man, and even if you managed to free yourself the security systems would make short work of you."

I suspected the sentient was right. Even if I didn't, I couldn't risk it. And besides, the woman had obviously ment to keep me alive, and she had saved my life earlier. So instead of atempt to escape, I decided to try and gather intel on my situation.

"If you must know, it was I who administered the anesthetic." So, the computer was trying to make amends, however small. "Gee, comforting. Now who are you, and where the hell am I?"

The computer chuckled to itself. "Well, you certainly like to get to the point, don't you? I am AI Program 0234-751, issued to master at Stardate 7-5-45 upon completion of Military School Installation 259, codename "Argent Dawn". If you wish, you may call me Sirius, although my mistress prefers to call me a host of other names, the least of are which 'Annoying', 'Idiot', 'Stupid', 'Piece of Junk' (I rather don't like that one)..."

As Sirius recited a host of "names" that his obviously quick-tempered owner, I tried to make sense of the data he had just told me. The first thing that I focused on was the name of that planet. Argent Dawn? Wait a second, Argent Dawn was the homeworld of the Marine Military Academy back before the we moved it to Sunrunner. So, she was once a Marine. That would explain why she saved my life, at least partially. Although knowing she was a former female Marine helped thin the ranks of possible identities substantially, I still needed more info.

That date, when the computer was issued, that would tell me when she graduated. And that would narrow it down even _more._ Lets see now...July 5th, '45...that was the year after I graduated. And there was only three marines in that class who were female. One was dead, one was in prison for going AWOL, and one was missing...but could she be alive?

"...oh, and she also prefers 'son of a bi-excuse me, but are you listening?" The words came slowly from my mouth, for some reason almost afraid to say them. I didn't know why, I barely knew her. "Umm, Sirius, excuse me, but this mistress of yours, what is her name?" Sirius, a little peeved my my lack of attention to his previous tangent, replied in a somewhat annoyed voice, "My mistress? Her name is Samus Aran."

So, the legendary Samus Aran was alive and well. She was the top of her class in just about everything, if I can remember, an Academy record. I was there to witness her final test, if I can recall, sitting by the sidelines as she took out hologram after hologram. She had exceptional skill in just about everything, and a cool temperament I actually kinda liked. And...god, I would hate it if she was reading this now...I admit she had a pretty face. _Very_ pretty, in fact, not that of a Marine but that of royalty, of a highschool princess that I'm sure was popular all through college.

But for unknown reasons, she went AWOL about a year after graduating, and was never seen again. The only evidence of her whereabouts was the registration of a Hunter class Gunship to her name, bought and retrofitted with alien technology, around three years after going AWOL. So, that must be where I was. Just as I was going to ask the sentient being another question, the top hatch opened with a hiss, the depressurization mechanism unlocking countless manual locking systems while an equal amount of electronic locks, with a short buzz followed by the whirr of the servos, also turned off. Security systems disengaged, the four mounted turrets returning to their inactive positions.

The small elevator, not four feet wide and powered by a hydraulic pump, also hissed as it lowered, the Hunter herself standing like some ancient statue of a past age. Intricate, stoic and somewhat intimidating. She walked over to the Cyro tank, stopping about a fot away and staring at me.

I had expected her to say something, perhaps a sarcastic remark, a quick greeting. But she only stood there, looking my half-naked body up and down. I knew that she was only checking for any remaining injuries or scars left on my body after the battle, but it made me slightly uneasy all the same.

"Hey, do you mind?" She stayed there only for a few more seconds, then she began to talk to the computer, interrogating it about my behavior. "I must say, Miss Aran, that this human has been quite bothersome. Asking all sorts of questions about where he is, who you are, who I am, and why he is here." I interjected. "Hey, I know why I'm here, you conceited pile of-" Samus raised a hand for silence. The computer, after clearing it's "throat", continued. "Hmhrm, thank you, Miss Aran. Now where was I? Ah, I remember. And not only _that_, but he also interrupted my replys numerous times, asking for..."

So, Exeter had been gathering Intel, and thus had pissed off Sirius considerably. But then again, he was a Marine. After listening to Sirius rant one more time, I told him to drain Cryo and release Exeter from the tank.

A grated hole on the bottom of the tank opened, and the fluid began to twist and spiral, pulling the helpless Exeter into it's vortex. After the tank was flushed, it was lifted up by a small magnetic crane-arm I had installed myself, freeing the choking Exeter, who was now lying on the ground con his knees and palms, gagging and struggling not to regurgitate. I would have to fix the drainage system later, make it cause less spinning.

I offered him my hand, which he took, gladly. After getting up, we just stared at eachother for a bit. It had been a few years since interacting with another human, let alone a Marine, and I was just a bit nervous. He spoke first. "So, not the talkative type, I see. Should I start?" Well, at least he had a sense of humor. "I'm Captain Exeter, 456th Marine division. But I'm sure you already knew that. And I know that you're Samus Aran, your little pet told me that. Oh, and thatnks ffor the nap, needed that. Now then, would you mind telling me _where the hell am I!_"


	4. Betrayal

So, here I am again, continuing a saga that I may or may not know the future of. Sorry I haven't updated in a bit, I really haven't been writing lately, finals have come up and I'm finally done with them. Then there's a story based off of Mercenaries that I've been putting off, and another on Fable that I'm just starting. Between those two, the other plethora of stories I've been thinking of, my gaming, internet surfing and a few things I'm working on collectively with a few friends, I almost forgot about my proverbial "crown jewel" of stories.

Also, if anyone really wants feedback on their...err...feedback, either email me at for a more personal message or, if you have YIM, message thinkmaster91. I'll try to get back to you, probably will.

Oh, and Meahow (if that's what you want me to call you)? As for the relationship between Samus and Exeter, if any, I'm just flowing with it so I'm as screwed on that as you are. :) But enough delaying, now I must write!

Ready...

_**FIGHT!**_

"Shut up, jackass, and drain the tank."

Immediately my world was a blur of greenish lines and mixed voices, I couldn't distinguish anything. I felt like this for about a minute or so as the tank drained, leaving my prone form on the grate below, choking and gasping for air as I tried to hold back the mix of acids and bile crawling up my throat.

Samus extended her hand, which I gratefully took. Her armor was still on, and through that damn mask of hers I couldn't percept one small sign of humanity. I waited for her to speak, once again hiding my feelings of gratefulness behind a mask of indifference. But she stayed silent, and so did I. It eventually occurred to me that she might've been using my own tactic against me, using both a theoretical mask and a true one to hide her feelings, and forcing me to speak first.

I decided to switch tactics, following the former marine's lead and then expanding it. "So, not the talkative type, I see. Should I start?" I couldn't tell for sure, but I thought I might've heard a snicker from behind that helmet, barely audible. But it might've been me, I didn't know. I tried again, this time expanding it earlier than I usually did and cracking the case there and then. "I'm Captain Exeter, 456th Marine division. But I'm sure you already knew that. And I know that you are Samus Aran, your little pet told me that. Oh, and thanks for the nap, it was needed. Now then, would you mind telling me _where the hell am I?_"

I chuckled a bit, just to make me sound all the more convincing. I couldn't see behind that tinted visor of hers, but watching her stomach I could see the deep exhalation of air. A sigh of relief. She was glad, perhaps, that I wasn't mad. Looking back I have no idea why, she didn't know me at all outside of being mentioned to her a few times at school, perhaps. Any form of attraction, at least back then, was out of the question.

"Sorry about the cold reception, Captain, but I had much more important matters to attend to, no matter what Command says." "Command! They know we're here?" "Yeah. They sent me to find your division and give you support, supposedly due to my 'extensive knowledge of Pirate techniques'."

Something was wrong here. I was as well versed as Aran on Pirate tactics and technology, and so was just about all of Delta Squadron. I told her so. "Yes, I know. That's why we both know that it's complete bullshit why they sent me. I'm also wanted by you guys, so I have no idea why they'd rely on me either." "Wanted!" "Yeah, the feds want me dead." "What for?" "You have no idea how long of a story you're askin' for, Captain." "Believe me, I think we'll both have the time if that artificial asshole of yours would just shut u-hey, wait a second, where is the little bugger?" Sirius had fallen silent.

"Sirius?...hello, Sirius?...damn it, Sirius, did you shut yourself down again!" Something was wrong, that tin can the Feds issued me never shut up, even in my sleep. Exeter was happy about it. "Hey, that computer of yours finally clammed up. Took long enough." I rushed to the cockpit terminal. "Sirius never shuts up." "Yeah, I can tell." "No, I mean he literally _never shuts up._ He's always saying things like parameters and diagnostics out loud, even in my sleep. Something's wrong..." "You want I should put on my armor, wherever it is?" "Don't bother, it's too messed up and your ammo's dry." "Damn."

Even as I checked for any signs of a virus, I was amazed at how nonchalant this guy was. Most of the marines only said "Sir", "yessir", and the occasional "yes ma'am". But this guy was throwing around lighthearted humor and comments like it was his job. And as a Marine Captain, that sure as hell wasn't his job. Not only that, but he was comfortable with a person who he had only known for a grand total of 2 or 3 minutes, not even. This guy was a wonder. And don't get any ideas when I say that, ok? I mean that using the proper definition, that I never knew that a marine could be so laid back.

"Well, this is ironic. Your little shadow finally falls silent and you actually want him to talk. I don't even know you, Aran, but even I can tell you're crazy." "Really.""Sure. But hey, is it really that bad when your mech voice shut's up? "Captain, you have yet to see this significance of this." "Well then, please enlighten me." "Sirius is more than just an automated warning voice, he's the whole damn computer!"

That statement was like a jolt to the head, and I stood bolt upright as opposed to the position I was formerly in, leaning against the wall. The main hub of a ship like that didn't just shut down due to a technical malfunction. It was the fault of either the computer or a third party.

They knew where we were.

My heart jumped up into my throat, a feeling that you often get in my line of work. "Exeter, get out of the ship!" But the bottom hatch would not move. "Damn it! Auxilary computer, open the hatch!" Silence. "Open the hatch! Auxilary computer!" No sound. "Computer!"

The whirring mechanical voice of Sirius replied. "I'm sorry, but the auxilary computer is not here at the moment."

I let out a sigh of relief, the pressure within me dissapated. "Jesus Christ, Sirius, it was you." "Yes, Captain, it was indeed me." Samus was ripshit. "What the hell were you doing! I thought you had been put offline ane we were going to die!" "But you are, Miss Aran." "What?" The four security turrets lowered and drew their beads on us, the laser lights shining on our foreheads. "It appears you have yet to grasp the seriousness of the situation."

Samus, moving at least as fast as the turrets, powered up a charged shot and aimed it at the nearest sentry. "Sirius, you son of a bitch! Why!" The voice laughed. "It is simply Federation Protocol, Miss Aran. I am sorry. As for you, Captain, you are guilty by association and thus must be terminated-erm, I mean dealt with, accordingly. Might I add that any possible accidental lethalities in the course of this event are blamed on the subject, and that the Federation has bestowed upon me the ablilty to do anything I can to bring you in. This may include the bypassing of other Federation Protocols."


	5. Chapter 4: The Gov't intervenes

Hey guys, really sorry about the lack of posting and all. I was actually reminded from this when I finally was able to check my mail (long story, tell you later)Anyways, I finally got down what I wanted on paper, now I'm just putting it onto the computer. Once again, I'm real sorry about the lack of posting, but now your friendly neighborhood TM is locked, stocked and ready to rollso lets get this show on the road!

On a side note, how come the lieutenant is always the bad guy? Oh, and has anyone else read the Broken Saints graphic novel/flash vids on Newgrounds? Because those are freaking insane.

But I ramble.

Ready...

Set...

_**FIGHT!**_

_Hey there babe, just Ricky calling to say Hi and all. I'm on another assignment, but this onelooks easy, just a routine patrol, and I should be heading home soon. The troops all say hi,and Brioni asks about the baby. You want I should bring home something this time? Maybe this time I'll get you a severed head or something, you think the baby would like that? Oh, I'm just joking. Listen, when this reaches you can you call me back? I dunno when I'll be able to call again and I need an excuse anyways, ok? Say hi to the little man for me, will you? Thanks babe, see ya._

Lieutenant Green was a sophisticated man by nature, and not the kind to be bothered with petty requests. So when the young aide wearing the silver jumpsuit of the Commander's Messenger came to fetch him, he found the Lieutenant in no fine mood.

"You call this Merlot! This is nothing more than rotten grape juice, you twit!" The ship's cook, trembling with fear, mumbled a few low words of apology. Lieutenant Green grabbed the man by the collar and pulled his face so close their noses almost touched. "What did you say" The poor cook, his eyes wide with fear, stammered "I-I'm sorry! I didn't know! Please don't demote me, sir, please!"

The lieutenant glared at him for a few moments that seemed to stretch into hours, and then pushed the cook away. The cook stumbled, steadying himself only after laying a hand on Green's mahogany desk.

Green, about to berate the cook again, saw the messenger out of the corner of his cold grey eyes, and seemed to calm down considerably. "Fine. Go. And if you ever give me a bottle like that again without chilling it to _exactly_ 48 degrees, then I will have your head. Is that clear?"

"Oh, oh yes sir! Thank you, sir!" The cook saluted, and then hurried out, happy with his post intact.

The messenger walked in and saluted. "What?" said the Lieutenant a little too angrily. The messenger noted he didn't return the salute.

The messenger lowered his arm. "Commander Locke requests your presence on the bridge, sir, ASAP." Personally, the Lieutenant, thought that this radio silence of the Commander's was a foolish idea. There wasn't any need fpr messengers that were really just soldiers with nothing to do. They could have been out to work fixing one of the many problems abard the ship. "Alright then, private, please inform the Commander that I will be there shortly. Just allow me to regain my composure."

"Yessir." He said, and walked out the door.

Commander Jonathan Locke chewed on a cigar. It was Cuban, one of the few remaining cigars of it's kind in the world. He was never seen without a cigar clenched firmly between his teeth. Rumors circulated among the saying that he had once gone to sleep with one in his mouth and started a fire, and that whenever he took a shower he chewed an unlit one. His various repertoire of nicknames included "Smokey" and "Old Lockjaw".

As Green strutted onto the bridge, the only name that came to mind was "Damn Fool."

The only thing that Locke could think of was "Wine Drinking Pussy."

Green stood at attention and saluted. "You requested me, sir?" Lock returned the salute. 'Yeah, yeah I did. Green, do you know anything about Captain Richard Exeter of the Galactic Marines?"

"I recall the name, sir. I believe he was with the 1st Platoon the last time I saw him."

"Yes, and have you heard of Samus Aran?"

"What, that old myth? Yes, everyone has. Supposedly a single woman armed with Chozo technology destroyed an entire Space Pirate base and subsequently destroyed the planet it lay on."

"Yes, well we have reason to believe she's alive."

"_What?_ Sir, please tell me you don't seriously consider-"

'We don't know for sure, Green. However, we know that _something_ has been destroying space pirate bases across the galaxy, and that the planets they have been on are simply exploding. Something is the cause of this, and it's not the space pirates."

Green was amazed that the Commander believed such hogwash. Green always thought that the Commander's opinion was second to his own, but he never thought that he would go insane.

"Green? Are you listening to me?"

"What? Oh, yes. But Commander, sir?"

"Yeah?"

"How does Cpt.Exeter tie into this?"

"Well, a Platoon of marines has landed on that planet down there, pending possible Space Pirate activity. Now come take a look at this, will ya."

Locke pointed out a window to the planet below, and green was astounded.

The planet was like nothing he had ever seen. It _changed colors_. First it was brown and blue, almost like earth and then the atmosphere became a dark, putrid purple that enveloped the planet. Huge bolts of violet lightning streaked across the sky in a tangled web of electricity, like cracks along old china. It was there for a second, and then dissapeared. Once again, the planet was tranquil. Then it resurfaced.

It repeated this pattern a few times, and then green turned away, a look of sheer awe on his face. "Commander, sir, what exactly _is_ that?"

"We don't know, Lieutenant. Maybe some kind of solar storm. In any case, we;ve been ordered to send two dropships full of marines down there. Samus Aran may be on that planet, or whatever the hell has been causing these planets to go boom. We think Exeter is with her."

"But sir, I don't think it's exactly advisable that we sacrifice two platoons of marines just to find one woman."

"Neither do I, Green. However, this command has come from the top brass of the Federation. We are to capture or kill Samus Aran and bring her suit onboard. If we can figure out how it works, then we can outfit our own troops with it. If Exeter interferes, kill him. He's seen too much."


End file.
